


Listen to each drop of rain

by Cloudseer



Series: The Carpenter and the Witch [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fairy Tale Elements, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-10-01 19:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudseer/pseuds/Cloudseer
Summary: Once upon a time, somewhere far, far away a man and a child lived a routine in safety, hiding even from those that loved them.Routines, however, can be very suddenly shattered by the most fantastical happenings.





	Listen to each drop of rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theotherguysride (SniperinaJumper)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SniperinaJumper/gifts).

> Happy birth, Jazzy! This is for you because it was inspired by you. 
> 
> <3

Sometimes Cor wondered if he lived in a fairytale. A small cabin, built by his own hand, at the foot of a remote mountain, hidden from mortals and gods and a war. An old war dog, a hidden prince and a curse looming over all. Because that old prophecy couldn’t be anything but. Which is why he agreed when Regis, his King- his  _ brother _ \- asked him to take his only son. Far away, where Bahamut’s prophecy couldn’t find him. 

He didn’t regret one minute of it, though it was certainly a lonely life. Cor thought it was nice, he was busy in a way he never thought he would be without battles to fight. There had been many things he had to learn to do. And before he knew it his days were filled with caring for a cheerful child and projects to make their lives easier. And eventually, slowly, thinking of Insomnia and the people he left behind hurt less and less. He still did the three day trip, once every season, to collect Regis’ secretly sent messages and gifts. Noctis deserved to know he had a father that loved him after all, even if he couldn’t see him grow. 

The kettle whistled, interrupting his nostalgic train of thought. With a sigh and a small smile he stood and went to prepare his tea. It was early in the morning, and Noctis was off fishing for the perfect fish that Cor would then cook for them. He had plenty of time to finish the cake he planned for him and wrap the gifts for the now lanky teenager. 

\--

The carp was crying, human-sounding crying. He almost dropped his fishing rod into the stream from the shock. Fish were not supposed to make that sound. Even if he had never seen one with that kind of coloration before. It cried again and he hurried to unhook it. Anything that made that kind of sound was clearly  _ not _ a normal, edible fish. It seemed intelligent too, because the moment it became clear Noctis was trying to free it it stopped jumping. And once he did it went back into the water, glittering golden scales disappearing into the depths. 

Before he had recovered from the shock the fish’s…. face? poked out of the water. “Hey man, thanks! You’re not so bad.” It was talking to him. The fish was talking to him. “That’s rude! I’m not just a fish! And I’m a he, not an it.”

“Not… just a fish.” 

“I’m Prompto, and I’m going to be a  _ dragon _ .” Noctis blinked at him. He was certain that fish, no matter how pretty, didn’t become dragons. Prompto pouted, somehow. “At least tell me your name! You know mine.”

“Uh… I’m Noctis.” He didn’t say anything more. Even if Prompto was a fish Cor had told him not to say anything more ever, and Cor had never lied to him. Instead, he grasped for something to say, because <strike>the fish</strike> Prompto was looking at him expectantly -and how a fish could have expressions was a mystery he didn’t want to understand- clearly waiting for him to say something else. “It’s… uh, it’s my birthday today.”

“It is?! This is great, I’ve never met someone on their birthday before. Wait right there, Noct!” Prompto dove back into the water, and stayed gone for some time. The prince was too baffled, and curious, to even consider moving from that spot. Eventually, the chatty golden carp resurfaced again and, with a flourish, tossed something shiny in front of him. He picked it up carefully. It was a big stone, round and smooth, that in the light shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow. 

“Happy birthday, Noct!” He said cheerfully. Noctis felt incredibly touched. No one besides Cor, and his father, but letters didn’t feel the same, had ever wished him a happy birthday. 

“Thanks… I uh… I always get a cake for my birthday. I could bring some later?”

Prompto pouted again. “Oh no. I can’t, I would love to, but I can’t.”

That was… a little disappointing. “Why not?”

“I told you, I’m going to become a dragon! So I have to keep going.”

“How do you even become a dragon?”

“It’s easy! … well, sort of. I have to reach the place where the river is born.”

“How?”

“By climbing the mountain, of course!”

“That’s going against the current”

“Yup.”

“It sounds very hard.”

“Yup, but I’m not giving up!”

“... Good luck then, Prompto.”

“Thank you! And maybe next year I’ll be a dragon and then I could get out of the water.”

“That would be nice….”

They said their goodbyes again, and Noct saw Prompto continue on his journey upstream, to maybe one day become a dragon. For his part he went back to fishing, he still had to get something for dinner today and he couldn’t bear to disappoint Cor. 

In the end he didn’t, the lunch was delicious, as always. And so was the cake. He placed the tiny carved figurine he got from Cor every year in his shelves along with Prompto’s beautiful gift, and the beautifully embroidered pillowcase from his father on top of his desk. He would replace it when he next washed the one he had. He had ten of them now, one for every birthday he had had while living in the middle of nowhere. Some were threadbare and almost falling apart so he didn’t use them anymore. But he kept them all the same. They were a proof his father still thought of him, at least a little. 

\-- 

Becoming a Storm was not an easy thing at all. There was a reason they were so rare, after all. Because storms came and went, forming from nothing and sometimes dissipating before one knew what was happening. It took time for a storm to become aware, time most of them never got. And it took even longer to learn to remain  _ whole _ . Despite the winds and the weather and the changing seasons. 

He didn’t remember the exact moment when he became aware. But he remembers the moment he first realized it. When he saw the man dancing in the rain, movements slow and fluid. He didn’t care for the cold or the rain or the thunder, he just moved with graceful, practiced steps, face turned skyward and clearly enjoying himself.

That man had become a goal of sorts. To see him again and talk. And when he earned his name Nyx was also very careful in choosing his form. He could only do it once, after all. He folded himself, all of him, every stray breeze and even the tiniest drop and the spark of his lightning, into the shape of a man. It was a long process and it wouldn’t be perfect. It never was. No one would know the truth, of course, but everyone would be able to tell there was something *more* to him. 

With a booming roar of thunder it was over and Nyx was laying on his back, light drops of rain falling on his face. Maybe just a light shower, maybe a new storm born in his wake. He lay there for a while, marveling at each new sensation and giddy with his success, before getting up and starting his walk to the place he remembered. He wouldn’t get lost, not with his innate sense of direction, and the mountain never seemed that big from on high. 

(It was. It took him  _ days _ .)

—

Cor had always liked the rain. More so now that he could stop and sit down with a cup of tea and just  _ watch _ . He could take the time and enjoy the way everything became softer, in the rain, and think. 

He had plenty to think about, starting with what could it possibly mean that a  _ talking fish _ had gifted Noctis the biggest pearl Cor had ever seen, on his birthday. He hoped, desperately, that it didn’t mean  _ anything _ . That the prince -and his son, because he was his as he was Reggie’s by now- was safe and out of the reach of his supposed fate still. 

He wasn’t one for praying. Not when it was the gods themselves that had imposed such a terrible fate on Noctis. But there were some benevolent, or perhaps uncaring, enough to just… let them be. So maybe, just once, he could throw his hopes to the Fulgurian’s judgement. He, practical as he was, didn’t take the crack of thunder as a sign, it had been raining for days and it could very well be a coincidence. The muddied, wide eyed man that walked up the path to his home moments later, however, was much more likely to be. 

He was wary, of course, there were people out there that still looked for Noctis. But seeing this man being entranced by every little detail -from the flowering weeds around the path to the path itself, with it’s little round smooth stones, to the newly repaired chicken coop- he became more and more convinced he didn’t mean any harm. He still greeted him with sword in hand, because Cor hadn’t kept the moniker of ‘the Immortal’ by being stupid. Though Clarus would beg to differ. 

The man’s smile was radiant, when he saw him. “Is this what it is like for you?” He asked, still smiling and near-bliss bubbling in his voice, thoroughly confusing Cor. “You always looked so happy out here and I think it is but I didn’t know how different things would feel like this and maybe it’s different for you but it—

_ What _

“What?” Cor bluntly interrupted the man’s admittedly cheerful babbling. “The f… what are you talking about? Who even are you?” 

“Oh… I am Nyx” And he seemed inordinately  _ giddy _ at giving him his name. “And I saw you, some cycles ago. I don’t know how long it was for you because time feels different up there but you were  _ dancing _ and almost no one but children do that anymore and—

“Wait, wait.” Cor interrupted Nyx again because it was clear the man  _ babbled _ . “Up there?” He was starting to have an inkling of what was happening, maybe. “Are you a Messenger?”

Nyx blinked at him and then laughed. It was a nice laugh, loud and tinkling, like raindrops on a roof. “No, no. Grandfather doesn’t  _ do _ Messengers. I’m just a Storm”, and Cor could  _ hear _ the capitalization, “this is what I chose to look like.”

A Storm become human, he had never heard of that before. It was, it seemed, the week for weird happenings. But he could adapt. He had adapted years ago when he came here. And then every year as he learned something new. 

“Well,” with now a smile tugging at his lips, Nyx’s own was contagious, he let his sword vanish back where it came from and tossed him the towel he had brought for the no-longer stranger. It was a little damp after their time talking in the rain, but Nyx was unlikely to notice. “Come on in, and please cover yourself. You’re pretty but I don’t think Noctis will want your naked ass to be the first thing he sees today.” Nyx spluttered but then laughed after a moment, fumbling briefly with wrapping the towel around his waist. He followed him inside, leaving wet tracks all the way to the shower. 

He left Nyx to figure out the shower while he hunted for something for him to wear and set more water to boil. He could get used to this, he supposed, things had been getting a bit lonely for him and Noctis both. Noct would be stoked to teach someone else to fish, that was certain. And from his brief time knowing Nyx, he would be  _ delighted _ to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks go to that one friend that helped me keep it fluffy and to Hamelin Owl for helping me fine-tune some turns of phrase and consolidating many ideas.


End file.
